Sick and Tired
by sockruse
Summary: Karkat has always been convinced that his life is unbeatably shitty, but his entire perspective on life is thrown out the window when he's forced to move in with Gamzee Makara. 2nd person, multi-perspective. Side plots. Very angsty.
1. Sick and Tired

_Author's notes: First off, I don't own Homestuck or any of the characters! Secondly, this is my very first work of fanfiction, so please be gentle with me. I do this in an interesting style I've never worked with before, in second person and in short little snippets that I'm going to split up by chapter, so bear with me! This is a humanstuck AU, and damn is it gonna be angsty. So much angst. Prepare your selves, dear readers._

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><p><strong>Be Sollux.<strong>

Karkat has his head rested against your chest in the same way he always does every morning when the rays of the sun coming in through the blinds wake you up.

You look down at his face and note how blissfully peaceful it looks opposed to how disgruntled it usually does, just like you always do.

You run a hand through his rough, wildly ruffled hair and brush your thumb over his freckled cheek and he stirs, looking up at you through heavy lidded, cold eyes, just like he always does.

"Good morning, shitstain," you murmur into his ear, and Karkat's body goes rigid.

He pushes away from you hurriedly and throws the sheets off of himself, only acknowledging you with a groggy grumble.

Just like fucking always.

You have to admit, you are getting sick and tired of this routine.

Day after day it's the same thing.

Wake up, say good morning, get nothing in return.

And then starts the fighting.

You stare up at the ceiling to collect your thoughts (it's unsuccessful, of course, your thoughts are always jumbled) before sitting up and throwing your legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing your brow with frustration.

Karkat has already dressed hastily and left the room, leaving the door ajar behind him.

The door to your room.

_Your_ room.

The only bedroom in the apartment that you are nice enough to let him share and that he shows you no gratitude for.

The only payment you get is grumbled insults and bleary glares.

The _asshole_.

Karkat is more than lucky to have a roof over his head, to have someone willing to share a fucking bed with him, to share all of your _belongings_ with him.

The prick doesn't even have a job, he hasn't since he's moved in.

He doesn't pay rent, he doesn't do chores, he doesn't do anything but mope and feel sorry for himself.

Karkat could easily be living out on the streets with nothing to eat and no where to sleep and no one to give a shit about him.

He could have nothing/

And he would, if it wasn't for you.

He owes you.

God damn it, he _owes _you.

And he owes you big time.

And there's no way that you aren't going to get the payment that you deserve.


	2. The Shittiest Situation

** Be Karkat.**

You wake up with your head on Sollux's slowly rising and falling chest, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, just like fucking always.

You once again make a mental note to punch your subconscious in the fucking dick.

He tangles a hand in your hair and rubs your cheek and you resist the urge to shudder against his touch.

It sends a chill down your spine.

And not a good chill either.

The kind of chill that makes you want to puke up every vital organ contained within your body.

Sollux is a asshole.

You don't know what his deal is, but he's playing with you, humiliating you on purpose and he knows it.

He whispers condescending bullshit in your ear and you shove away irritably because you are not in the mood to deal with this so early in the morning.

You never are.

You roll out of the bed you are forced to share with the dickhead and stretch before you start to make your typical hurried exit from the room. You swear, if the couch didn't hurt your back so much you would sleep on it without a second thought.

And maybe you'd sleep on the floor, if you didn't have any pride, that is, and that shit is erupting from you with every breath you take.

Sharing a bed with Captor night after night is horrible and uncomfortable and you would rather shove shards of glass up your ass than have to do it.

You hardly get any sleep because of it.

It is really kind of counterproductive, but you do it anyway because a bed is a bed.

You have no where else to run to, and nobody will hire you.

You've applied to nearly every job you can find in the area, and you've been turned down by every single one.

You don't know what you're doing wrong.

None of your other friends will take you in and let you stay with them.

None of them have given a shit about you since high school always find yourself in the shittiest situations.

Before Sollux can say anything more, you pull one of your oversized hoodies you find on the floor over your head and put on a pair of grey sweats that hang low on your hips because you're too damn scrawny for your own good.

You're out of the door before Sollux can even move a head straight for the kitchen, maneuvering over the cords that litter the floor expertly (you've done this many times before,) rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

You have to admit, you are getting sick and fucking tired of this routine.

Sick and fucking tired of everything.

You check the fridge.

It's pretty much empty, as usual.

Sollux doesn't have much of an appetite, so therefore you are forced to eat what little shit he has lying around.

You are grabbing the milk and preparing to drink it straight from the carton, the opening almost to your lips, when Sollux appears in the is in nothing but red and blue plaid boxers, his lean, somewhat bony, and pale body exposed and tensed.

His hands are balled into fists by his sides and his nostrils are flared.

But this isn't what makes you pause.

It's the expression on his face.

The look in his eyes.

You don't think you've been more terrified in your life.


	3. Spilled Milk

** Be Sollux.**

You've decided that you are sick and tired of Karkat's shit.

You are sick and tired of everything about this.

You aren't going to deal with it anymore.

You shouldn't have to.

You shouldn't have to deal with any of this bullshit.

You are done giving and giving and giving to him and getting nothing in return.

He is going to give back, to give you what you've been wanting for so long, or he is going to get the fuck out of your life.

You are tired of the arguments.

Of his bitching.

The screaming.

The headaches he gives you.

The bruises you both have from the fights.

The way you feel about him.

Not being able to hold him closer to you when you feel him edge towards you and rest his head on your chest in the middle of the night when you still can't sleep.

You are tired of him not returning your feelings.

You rub your eyes with the heels of your palms, digging them in until sparks erupt behind your eyelids, and you bite your tongue to keep from screaming.

You are going to settle this right now, no more waiting, no more stalling.

No more second thoughts.

Karkat is either going to see the error of his ways and be yours, or he is going to leave and you'll never see him again.

The chances aren't looking so hot for the former.

As you get off the bed and stretch your arms over your head, you start to dread the coming decision.

Is this the right thing to do?

You could really lose him…

Is that what you want?

But as you make your way down the hallway, thinking over the situation and your reasons again to assure yourself that you're being perfectly reasonable with this, the anger builds.

It builds and fills your entire being and boils and explodes and you have lost all control of yourself.

Your hands ball into fists and your lips curl into a snarl and you feel like a blood-thirsty animal nearing it's prey as you reach the doorway.

You hear your heartbeat and you swear you could see red if that were a real thing that could happen. Karkat sees you and want to kill him.

At this point, your actions aren't your own anymore.

You lunge forward, knocking the milk carton out of your "roommate's" hand, causing it to soar across the room, sending milk everywhere.

You don't give two shits about a little milk on the floor.

Within seconds you have Karkat pinned against the wall, holding his wrists above his head, your face inches from his.

He looks like he is going to pee his little girl panties.

His heavily bagged eyes are wide with shock and confusion and it's sickening.

You want to tear them out of their sockets.

"What. The. _Fuck_ are you doing?" You spit, slamming his hands against the wall for emphasis.

You think you hear him whimper.

The pansy ass.

He struggles against your grip and you easily resist his attempts, only pressing closer to him, your breathing ragged.

"I w-was just-" he stammers, obviously about to explain the mess on the floor.

That isn't what you fucking meant.

"What the fuck are you doing, living off of me like a leech for months and giving me jack shit in return? This isn't a free ride asswipe. I'm done letting you take whatever you fucking want."

Your anger starts to falter uncertainly.

You are going to do it.

You're going to.

"I want payment."

Before Karkat can open his mouth to retort, you crush your lips hard against his, desperation clawing at every fiber of your being.

This is what you've wanted.

This kiss.

This _kiss_.

Karkat's affection.

For him to love you with his everything.

Nothing else.

You just want him to want you too.

You feel his lips stiffen.

He fights harder against your hold, thrashing his body around violently to escape.

He bites down on your lip and you think he draws blood.

The taste of iron in your mouth brings you back to reality.

You don't know why you had expected differently.

You don't know why you had put so much hope into one little kiss.

Every time Karkat's body painfully smacks against yours, your dignity cracks.

You pull away and look hard into Karkat's eyes.

You dig your nails into his skin.

And you put as much venom, as much anger, as much loathing into your words as you can to mask your disappointment and your broken spirit.

He doesn't want you.

He would never want you like that.

You are an absolute fucking moron.

You wipe the blood from your lip with the back of your hand and spit,

"Pack your shit and get out."


	4. Kicked to the Curb

** Be Karkat.**

Your lips are touching.

The milk is everywhere.

You feel Sollux's groin grind against yours.

Your pride is being shattered into a million pieces, like this, whatever this is, is a shame party and your pride is the confetti.

This isn't what you want.

This will never be what you want.

You desperately try to break Sollux's grasp, thrashing and kicking and biting.

He holds a lot of strength in his seemingly scrawny body and it has only ever been used against you.

You are done with this bullshit.

You are done with living with someone you fucking hate with your everything.

You are tired of the abuse.

You don't know why your heart sinks so much when Sollux tells you to leave.

He's dead serious.

You've never seen him more serious, eyes hollow and lip bleeding, and it's petrifying.

He bashes you against the wall once more before storming off towards your… his room in an enraged stupor.

Your entire body aches and it's not just from the physical blows.

You don't move.

You don't think you could move, even if you wanted to.

Sollux reemerges fully clothed, keys in hand, and heads for the door.

He doesn't even give you a second glance.

"If you're not gone before I get back, I'll kill you."

And then he's gone, slamming the door behind him.

The sound makes you cringe.

You aren't sure what emotion you are feeling as you start to pack your belongings into your suitcase, but you feel bile at the back of your throat and you think you are going to completely fall apart.

It doesn't take you long to collect your small amount of clothing and your movie collection and few various things, but you still can't help but stall a bit.

You walk through the apartment you have been staying in for the past six months and your stomach twists into knots as you take in the cords and the enormous bookshelves and the nerdy posters and the massive amounts of computer equipment for the last time.

You have fucked up so badly.

Why do you always fuck up so badly?

You hold yourself together as you walk through the front door and lock it behind you.

But when you get to your car, you finally crumble.

You clutch the steering wheel with an iron grip and hunch forward, your entire body trembling.

Hot, salty tears leak freely from your eyes and you squeeze them shut to try to stem the flow.

You wail like an infant.

Your entire being quakes with each shaky, heaving sob.

You have nowhere to go.

Nowhere to run to.

Nowhere.

Kanaya is in Europe with Rose for the next year, partying it up, free of your bullshit.

Terezi lives with Dave, and that ass wipe wants nothing to do with you, and frankly you want nothing to do with him either.

And the rest of them would laugh in your face and simply say, "I told you so."

I told you so.

You've turned out to be just as useless as they've though you are all these years.

You can't get a job.

You can hardly keep up a friendship.

Sollux hates you.

He _hates_ you.

Nobody wants to talk to you.

You have completely fucked up your life and there is close to nothing you can do about it at this point.

You're done.

You're doomed.

There's only one alternative, and you'd rather off yourself before you'd volunteer for that bullshit.

You won't do that.

You will not.

You'd rather live on the streets in a nice cozy cardboard box with food picked from dumpsters than that, because _really, _come on.

Well…

Okay no.

Maybe it wouldn't be _that_ horrible…

Yes it…

No…

You…

You…

You guess you have no choice.

You can't believe that it's come to this.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and fumble with the buttons, dialing a number you never thought you would have to again.

Fuck.


	5. Life is too Beautiful

_Author's note: Gamzee is probably a teeny tiny bit (really) exaggerated. I have fun with him._

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><p><strong>Be Gamzee.<strong>

Where's that music coming from?

You're just all up and laying sprawled across your couch, head hanging off of the edge, enjoying the beauty of the daylight coming in through your open window, you don't remember all getting your music on.

It's your favorite song too.

If that ain't a miracle, man, you don't know what is.

You sing along off-key with lyrics that don't quite match up until the mystifying song suddenly cuts off.

You come to terms with it quickly.

You can't expect a motherfucker to hang around all day, can you?

The song starts up again a minute later and you suddenly realize where it's coming from.

That would explain the strange buzzing you were feeling in your pocket.

Your best friend is calling you.

You grin one of your biggest, goofiest motherfuckin' grins.

You haven't talked to that fucker in so long!

You don't remember how long "so long" is exactly, but you have a guesstimation.

And that is: a really fucking long time.

You answer with a cheery, "What is up my motherfuckin' Karbrother?"

Oh.

Well, shit.

Your best friend is crying?

Well, that's all up and weird.

That's not like the fucker.

You hope he's okay.

Life is too beautiful to be motherfuckin' sad and angry all the time.

He says that Solbro up and kicked him out of the apartment.

You tell your Karbrother that everything happens for a reason and he screams at you in the loudest fuckin' way.

You chuckle and drop the phone onto the floor.

Once you've maneuvered not-so-expertly and picked it up without leaving the couch and hold it to your ear again, he's saying that he needs a place to crash.

You say that you have an extra bed he could get his fuckin' nap on in.

Or a nice pile of fuckin' horns he could snooze on in, if that would be more comfortable.

He says that he had been afraid you'd say that and you marvel at how he fuckin' knew.

Dude's a psychic or some shit.

He also says that he'll be over soon.

You are so excited that you fall right the fuck to sleep because damn, your couch is motherfuckin' comfy as shit.


	6. What?

** Be Karkat.**

You can't believe you just did that.


	7. Regret

** Be Sollux.**

You can't believe you are crying. Over this.


	8. This is Normal

** Be Gamzee.**

How the motherfuck did you end up on the floor?


	9. The Worst Idea Probably Ever

** Be Karkat.**

You don't bother to wipe away the tears that are still coming from your eyes.

You don't stop lightly sobbing as you pull out of the parking space in front of your…

Sollux's apartment and don't bother looking back because you don't think you can.

You are going to be fine.

Totally fine.

You have another place to stay.

You are going to be fine.

Everything is going to be fine.

You're just staying with an insane, clown obsessed pot-head who you haven't seen in a year.

What could go wrong?

You and Gamzee are… compatible, last you can remember.

Everything he did and said did _not_ piss you off, that would be absolutely ridiculous.

Everything is going to be fine.

Perfectly fine.

You are going to be happy living with him.

...Right?

It is doesn't hit you until you pull into Gamzee's driveway that it is _not_ going to be okay.

Not at all.

Gamzee's yard…

Is a wreck, to put it lightly.

A total fucking wreck.

The grass looks like a fucking jungle.

You wonder if any one has ever mowed it since Gamzee moved in.

There are plastic flamingos strewn out randomly in the thicket, like obnoxiously pink lions on the hunt for their prey (garden gnomes, presumably.)

One is in the tree.

There are chalk drawings all over his driveway that just look like indecipherable purple scribbles with the occasional barely legible "motherfucker" mixed in.

Is that…

Is that a pair of underwear on the flagpole attached to his house or is that just an extremely small flag?

No, that's underwear.

No.

Oh god.

Oh.

God.

What the hell did you get yourself into?

You are screwed.

Absolutely screwed.

You are going to get in the car and drive away, far, far away and you are never going to come back.

You are going to turn around and crawl back to Sollux on your hands and knees and kiss his feet and agree to be his pet until you can get a job.

You'll even kiss him if he...

Haha, no.

Your pride will never allow that.

You are in this mess up to your ears, and you figure you might as well drown in it now.

Get your death over quickly.

Death by poor decisions.

You halfheartedly try to wipe your tear stained cheeks with the sleeve of your baggy hoodie, but you figure Gamzee won't give a shit, if he even notices at all (you know he won't.)

You stand on the front porch in front of the door, taking a deep breath and contemplating your options once more.

It's either live with Gamzee and mooch off of his shit, or live on the streets and have nothing.

You hate both options.

You hate all of this shit.

It isn't even your usual deep, pure, unfaltering hate either.

You are too broken for that.

You hate it in the way that it just makes you unbelievably sad and the only thing you want to do is cry more but you can't and you won't because you are not weak.

You are not a baby.

You are Karkat fucking Vantas, and you are going through this whether you like it or not.

You raise your hand to knock on the door, but it swings open before your knuckles make contact with the faded, chipped wood.

Suddenly you are caught up in the arms of a giant before you can resist, your face smashed up against Gamzee's chest.

You feel your feet lift off the ground.

You think you hear your spine crack.

He's squeezing the life out of you.

He reeks of weed.

You smell Doritos and Faygo on his breath.

Normally, you would struggle and cuss and punch and kick him and demand to know what his fucking problem was, but…

But strangely, his embrace is welcome at this very moment.

You sob into his smelly, comfortingly soft shirt.


	10. Specks in the Carpet

** Be Sollux.**

You are hunched over on your living room floor, your fingers tangled into and pulling at your hair.

You feel as if a chunk of yourself has been ripped straight from your body.

He's gone.

Karkat is gone.

The tears fall silently, and they sting your eyes, but you don't wipe them away.

You watch as they drop onto the floor, leaving wet little specks in the carpet.

You can't believe you just let him go.

Just like that, you let him go.

The one person you really give a fuck about.

You know you had a pretty damn shitty way of showing it to him, but damn it, that doesn't mean you don't care.

You shouldn't have kicked him out in that bi-polar fit.

You shouldn't have reacted like that.

If you hadn't, he would still be here.

You would still be able to spend more time with him, even if he still didn't return your feelings.

You would still be able to see his face.

He would still crawl closer to you and rest his head on you and you would be able to feel his small, slightly petite body next to yours.

You would still have the same old morning routine together.

You take back what you had said before about being sick of the routine.

If you had Karkat back, you would get used to it.

You would do it over and over again and grin and bear it, because damn it, you care about Karkat.

Why the hell can't you control yourself?

You think about calling him.

He hasn't even been gone an hour.

He wouldn't have had time to settle into where ever he had gone to (oh god, where did he go?)

You could call and apologize and beg him to come back to you.

You would stop calling him names.

You would cater to him.

You'd give him what he wanted.

You would do anything.

But, no.

Your pride will never allow you to do something like that.

You did this to yourself.

Sollux Captor is not a quitter.

Sollux Captor is not a baby.

You are going through this whether you like it or not.

And you hate it.

God, you hate it.

All you want to do is go back to sleep.

You want to sleep forever, and forget that any of this had ever happened.

But you can't go back into the bedroom.

The imprint Karkat's body had left was still in the sheets.

You can't go in there.

You would fall apart at the seams.

Even more than you are now.

Instead, you curl up into the fetal position right on the floor, and cry into your palms until you slowly fall into a restless sleep.

This is going to be hard.

So hard.


	11. Company

** Be Gamzee.**

As soon as you see the tears on your motherfuckin' best friends cute little cheeks, you pull him all up into the biggest fuckin' bro hug known to man.

You made that shit happen.

The motherfucker is tense as hell as first, but then he eases up and gets his cry on right on your shirt.

You don't complain.

You make shushing noises in his ear and tell him to let it all out.

Can't fuckin' let that shit sit in your thinkpan like that, you'll go motherfuckin' crazy.

You would know.

Eventually Karbrother's sniffles stop and then he predictably shoves all away from you all flustered like, and you grin.

He grumbles something about gettin' his shit from his car and he stalks away like a little fuckin' adorable rain cloud, and reappears with a suitcase a little too heavy for his scrawny fuckin' self to drag behind him. You take it from him and say follow me to the motherfuckin' suite brother.

The look all up on his face is priceless.

He stops and looks all over your house, and you don't fucking blame him, man, your house is fuckin' magical.

You can't help but stop and get your stare on sometimes.

And drool a tiny fuckin' bit, but that's only sometimes.

Shit's fucking mesmerizing.

You lead the way to the door of your spare room and your best bro takes a while to follow.

You blame it on his bad case of the sads.

You're gonna show that brother how to fuckin' live and not worry about a damn thing.

Yeah, it's gonna be fuckin' miraculous.

You are so happy to have Karbrother around.

It gets lonely, spendin' so much fuckin' time in a house all alone with your fuckin' self.

Drives a fucker crazy.

It feels so good to have some fuckin' company all up in your miracle cave with you.

It feels good to have someone who wants to be around you for a change.

You had missed Karkat so much.


	12. The Comfort of Romcoms

** Be Karkat.**

It soon hits you that you, Karkat Vantas, are voluntarily touching Gamzee Makara and you gag.

You shove away from his chest, your eyes wide with horror and…

His arms give way startlingly easily.

You aren't used to someone being so… gentle.

You quickly shake your head, violently trying to shake the thought of Gamzee ever being even slightly tolerable from your mind and you storm away before your eyes can stray to his goofy looking face.

You are just going to get your shit, move in, and never leave your guest room again.

You won't have to make contact with that clown-obsessed moron.

Life is going to be easy and painless from this point on.

Or, you are determined to make it that way.

You open your trunk and stare at your suitcase solemnly.

It still hasn't fully sunk in that you aren't going to be living with Sollux anymore.

You correct yourself.

Life is going to be easy and painless as soon as you can forget about Sollux and move on.

It just hurts.

It had felt like he was your only real friend.

Kanaya is like your sister and Terezi and John are just annoying, only slightly more tolerable than everyone else.

Sollux had been your only friend even if he did treat you like shit.

You are determined to fill the gap this fight had left in you, and you know what you are going to fill it with.

Romcoms.

And lots of them.

You struggle to drag your way-too-heavy-for-your-scrawny-body suitcase from your trunk, up the driveway, and to the front step.

You're grateful, though you'll never admit it, when Gamzee relieves the burden from you and carries it inside.

Inside.

Oh, fuck your fucking life.

Gamzee's house is trashed.

Bottles and cans of Faygo are strewn across the floor.

Food wrappers and pizza boxes are covering the counter and the kitchen table and the couch.

There's a thick haze of smoke and you choke as you take a step inside and you have to breathe through your sleeve or else you think you'll die.

There's a bong just laying out in plain sight in the corner of the living room.

There's a thin layer of dirt covering the wooden floor.

You swear you see a cockroach skitter by your feet.

You think you are going to puke.

You are going to clean this shit up, not as a favor to Gamzee, but for your own comfort.

This is ridiculous.

Gamzee is a pig.

He's standing at the end of the hall waiting patiently for you, and you figure you shouldn't dwell on the rest of the house or you'll drive yourself up the fucking wall.

He gives you a big doofy smile as you approach and you humor him with a small twitch of the corner of your lips.

His face paint is skull-like today, the dark paint making his eyes look hollow and glassy, the light brown of his irises contrasting against the black.

On anyone else it would be unnerving.

But Gamzee could never be intimidating.

He is just one huge idiot.

An idiot who, it seems, had been left alone way too long.

He needed help.

And it seems that you are the one who has to give it.

You aren't sure how you feel about that.

You brace yourself as he opens the door to the guest room.

You think you hear angels singing.

The room is completely clean, sans a layer of dust on most of the furniture.

It looks like the room had never been used after everything was moved in.

There is a full size bed in the corner, a TV (a pretty damn nice one at that,) a desk and a rolling chair, a few shelves, a decently sized closet and…

Is that…

Do you have your own bathroom?

Oh sweet baby jesus.

Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.

"Fancy as shit isn't it, Karbrother?"

Gamzee's voice startles you and you can't help but jump a little.

It's gotten so husky and deep since you last heard it, it doesn't even sound like his anymore.

But…

It isn't so hard on the ears.

"Err… I guess it's alright," you reply noncommittally, as he sets your suitcase down on your bed.

There's an awkward silence and you are about to break it when he turns towards you and just looks at you through his ruffled wavy hair, his mouth lazily formed into a smirk.

It seems his dorky smile is permanent.

He comes over and rests a hand on your shoulder, gazes straight down into your eyes, and then leaves without another word.

You stand transfixed for a few minutes.

But you are able to shake it off.

After Sollux's episode this morning, it seems like nothing.

Gamzee probably didn't mean anything by it anyway.

He's high out of his ass.

You dig a movie out of your suitcase(which you then throw onto the floor,) pop it into the DVD player, pull the sheets over your head like a cloak, and become absorbed in a romance you'll never have.

You don't see Gamzee again until late into the night.


	13. Sober

** Be Gamzee.**

It's three in the morning.

You have been sober for two hours.

You sit in the middle of your floor amidst your clown horns and balled up pieces of paper, your legs crossed, fingers tangled in the carpet, staring at your blank tan wall.

The weight upon your shoulders leaves your bones feeling broken.

You feel yourself slowly losing it, each sane thought floating out of your ears one by one, leaving only irrationality and pain.

You hear the buzzing of your computer.

The creaking of the house as it settles.

Something falling in the kitchen, most likely a pizza box.

The sound of the cicadas outside your window.

Karkat's movies from the other room.

He must still be awake.

You think about going to him before you do anything brash but you don't want to bother him.

You aren't going to disturb him on his first night staying with you.

You aren't going to scare him away so soon.

You've lost all control over your life and he's the only guiding light you can see.

And you see a lot of things in this state.

You wish it didn't have to be like this.

You wish it didn't hurt so much.

You wish _he_ didn't hate you.

Before you can resist the temptation, your phone is out of your pocket and in your hand, his contact already chosen, the blank text message waiting to be written.

You could almost hear it whispering to you, "Write me, write me. He'll respond this time, I promise. Just give it a shot."

You do.

It's the same message as always.

'I miss you. I hope you are doing okay.'

He hasn't replied for weeks.

You hope tonight will be different.

Your arms sting.

You ignore the throbbing and pull the bandages tighter.

It doesn't matter how many times you go through the same routine over and over, night after night, it still wears you down to dust and you blow away in the wind of your forced breathing.

You rest your head in your hands and wait for the tears that don't come.

They never come.

You instead drag your fingers down your face and stare blankly at the smudged grey paint left on your hands.

You wish you didn't have to be someone else in order to be happy.

You wish you didn't have to use drugs.

You wish you didn't have to change your face day after day in order to feel satisfied with yourself.

You just wish you could live and not worry about a damn thing.

You need to stop thinking.

You need to sleep.

And when you're sober, sleep does not come easy.

You opt for your second option.

You slowly pull yourself off of the floor, using your worn down desk as a support system, and shamble over to the closet.

You take the guitar you keep hidden in there and take it over to your bed, sitting down on the edge.

You sink into the too-soft mattress.

You make a note to get a better bed, eventually.

You strum a few test notes before you start to play.

The cords come naturally to you.

You try to play quietly so as to not disturb Karkat, but once you start playing one of your favorite songs, you can't help but sing along a bit and strum a little less lightly.

Music really is your one real escape.

It's the only thing you can really, truly lose yourself in, without the drugs.

When you're playing, nothing else in the world matters.

Not him.

Not your thoughts.

Nothing else.

You find yourself through the music and for those few minutes, you feel comforted.

Sane.

In the back of your head, you guess you almost want Karkat to hear you.

You want him to hear the words that you are singing, the notes that you are playing.

You want him to see.

You want him to understand.

You don't think you would have the guts to tell him what was wrong if he asked.

You just want him to give you anything he can.

A pat on the shoulder.

A passing glance.

Help.

This is your plea for help.

You just want help.


	14. Self Defense

_Author's note: intoducing, the new friend... TAVORS_

_A new character is thrown into the mix! It was my intention when I started writing this to include more characters than just Sollux, Karkat, and Gamzee, so I'm finally getting around to that!_

_Thank you all for the positive reviews! This update is for you. :D As for the typos I made, I guess I missed A LOT when I went back and read over what I had written. I went back and fixed all of them I could find, but if you find more, don't hesitate to point them out to me! Thank you guys so much~!_

* * *

><p><strong>Be Tavros.<strong>

Every night around three in the morning, you wake up.

Tonight isn't any different.

You groan as you come to, rolling over to face your bedside table and wait.

You hope he doesn't text you tonight.

You wish he could forget about you.

You wish he could let you forget about him.

It takes three minutes.

Your phone buzzes and its screen lights up, faintly illuminating your room.

You flinch.

You don't check the message.

You don't have to.

You know what it says already.

You feel so guilty.

It wasn't his fault, you know it wasn't his fault.

But you still can't help but blame him.

Gamzee had been your best friend for so long.

Your friendship had been flawless.

Every silly thing he did and said had made you laugh.

You had loved spending time around him.

You were at your happiest when you were with him.

But then the accident happened.

And you lost the feeling in your legs.

And it hadn't been his fault, not at all.

But all your life people had pushed you around and kicked you while you were down and you guess it was kind of out of defense that you shied away from him.

You broke off all contact.

You haven't talked for weeks.

Your life feels empty without Gamzee's reassuring smile and the feeling of his strong hand on your shoulder.

But you don't want to get hurt again.

Physically or emotionally.

You don't want to get hurt anymore.

You just want to be happy.

And confident in yourself.

And that's so hard when you have to worry about peoples' motives and whether or not they're going to stab you in the back.

Sometimes you wonder if you can ever be happy without your best friend.

You roll back over, facing away from your phone.

"Goodnight Gamzee," you whisper to the wall.

Even if you do halfheartedly blame him for what happened, you still worry about him.

You still miss him a lot.

Maybe one day things will get better for him.

And you.

Maybe one day things will be fixed.

You fall back asleep with old memories swirling in your head, just like every night before.


	15. Letting Go

** Be Karkat.**

You can't sleep.

But this isn't new to you.

You hardly ever get a good night's sleep.

There's too much to fucking be stressed about.

There's too much shit going on in your head to be able to relax and drift off to sleep.

You've spent all day just sitting here on your bed (_your_ bed!) curled up in your blanket cocoon, watching movies, replaying the scene from this morning over and over again in your head.

You only left your room to retrieve food from the crowded and filthy kitchen.

A difference between Sollux and Gamzee that you'll easily be able to adjust to is that Gamzee actually has fucking food to eat.

You yawn widely, your eyes, raw and red from crying on and off all day, watering.

You're exhausted.

But there's no way that you're going to sleep tonight.

The credits of the romcom you hadn't even been paying attention to roll.

You grab the remote and turn off the TV.

You pull the blanket/cloak over you head tighter around you.

You bring your knees up to your chest and rest your chin on them.

You've had a while to let it sink in, but you still can't believe that this has happened.

You miss Sollux.

It's weird living with Gamzee.

He's so strange.

The house is unfamiliar to you.

The smells are overpowering.

It's so messy.

It's so quiet…

Well, usually, it's quiet.

Where's that music coming from?

Is Gamzee listening to music at three in the morning?

That singer's voice sounds awfully familiar…

You let your curiosity get the better of you.

It isn't like you have anything to do at the moment.

Blanket still wrapped around you, you get up, your legs painfully protesting from being in the same position for too long, and you make your way down the hallway to Gamzee's room.

You stand just outside his slightly ajar door, peeking in through the crack.

Your heart clenches.

That isn't music he's listening to.

That's music he's playing.

Gamzee is singing.

Gamzee is playing the guitar.

And fuck, it doesn't sound half bad.

Not professional, but…

It is still kind of beautiful.

No, it is _really_ beautiful.

He looks so… focused.

Aware.

You are looking at a sober Gamzee.

It feels wrong almost.

It's like you're interrupting a private moment.

But…

You are kind of drawn to this scene.

This version of Gamzee that you've never seen before.

You sit down on the floor quietly, next to the door frame, making sure that you are out of sight, and lean your head back against the wall.

And you listen.

Just listen.

You find yourself becoming absorbed in the sound of Gamzee's voice.

You forget about everything else that's happened today for a second.

You relax.

You let go.

You feel...

Content.

The sound of the guitar lulls you to sleep right there on the floor.

You sleep soundly for the first time in God knows how long.


	16. Masks

_Author's note: I probably shouldn't be writing or posting this at nearly 4 in the morning, but I'm doing it anyway to please my sweet, lovely readers. 3_

_I like this at the moment, but we'll see how I feel about it in the morning._

* * *

><p><strong>Be Gamzee.<strong>

You breathe the last word like a sigh of contentment.

The last note played slowly fades to silence.

You can't help but lightly smile to yourself.

The pain still holds onto your brain with a vice-like grip.

But this has definitely numbed you to the pressure for a little while.

You figure you should probably wash the paint off of your face before you lie down for the night.

You delicately lean your guitar against your bed as you get up.

You run your hand through your hair as you quietly leave your room to head for the bathroom.

You almost trip over something in the middle of the hallway.

That something is Karkat.

You freeze for a few moments, your mouth agape.

He's asleep there, outside your door, leaning his head against his knees that are being hugged to his chest.

He's drooled a little onto his jeans.

Was he…

Listening?

Had he been listening to you this whole time?

You heart has been warily beating for so long as if it could give out at any minute.

But you swear you can feel it flutter back to life.

You can't help but just look at Karkat for a little while.

He really is all bark and no bite.

In his sleep, he looks so innocent.

So vulnerable.

His face is relaxed instead of hard and wrinkled from frowning.

You know that Karkat is so much different in his head than he is on the outside.

Just like you.

You hope that maybe someday soon neither of you will have to wear your masks around the house.

Looking through the eyeholes really limits your view on everything.

On life.

But it's going to be a while before that can happen.

Your mask is glued on.

It's going to take a lot of effort to get it off.

You hope that Karkat will be willing to make that effort for you.

To make an effort to get to know the real you.

You know that you will be, for him.

You pick him up, one arm supporting his back, the other under the backs of his knees, and carry him back to his room.

Laying him down on his bed, you pull the sheets over his petite body and he stirs a bit in his sleep but doesn't wake.

You ruffle his hair gently and close the door noiselessly as you leave.

For once you are able to look yourself in the eye in the mirror as you wash the paint off of your face.

You lay down in bed on top of your sheets, still fully clothed, and you don't sleep.

You don't sleep.

But you think.

You think and think and think all through the night.

And you don't once think about the cuts on your forearms.


	17. Imagining Things

_Author's note: In this chapter, Karkat is a drama queen. But what else is new?_

_All right, enough of this silly angst, it's time for a Gamzee shenanigan intermission. I hope you guys don't mind. ;]_

* * *

><p><strong>Be Karkat.<strong>

You wake up in your bed but you don't remember how you got there.

Last you can recall you were leaning against the wall outside Gamzee's door.

He was singing.

And you felt… comfortable.

But… Had that really happened?

It seems so faded and far away to you now.

Like a dream you just woke up from.

You desperately try to remember the details, but as seconds go by, it slips more and more through your fingers.

Maybe you just made it all up.

You really hope you didn't.

Maybe you shouldn't think about this so early in the morning.

And by early in the morning, you mean one in the afternoon.

You roll out of bed.

Literally.

You land on the floor with a loud thud and a groan.

It takes you a few minutes to stand up, but eventually you pull yourself together and head for the bathroom for a quick shower.

You try your hardest to not think as the warm water caresses your body, but the thoughts still come in painful flashes that make you cringe.

You don't know why it's affecting you this much.

Getting kicked out.

Every time the words "Pack your shit and get out," play over again in your head it feels like you've been hit over the head with a brick.

Every time Sollux's predator-like expression pops up in your mind it feels like a knife between the ribs.

You try to remember the song Gamzee may or may not have been playing last night, but you can't recall it clearly enough.

Why had everything turned to shit?

Why was this happening to you, now of all times?

Couldn't it have waited?

You resist the urge to sit down in the shower and hug your knees to you chest and sulk, and instead get out and wrap a towel around your waist, because you are not weak.

At least, you are trying not to be.

You grab a plain grey t-shirt and one of your older oversized black hoodies, along with a pair of faded jeans, out of your still-packed suitcase and throw them on.

You know you should probably get around to unpacking eventually, but you can't bring yourself to do it yet.

Unpacking is accepting that this situation you're stuck in is permanent.

And you still can't see it as that.

You still can't believe it.

You hear a voice from the living room.

Is someone over…?

Who's Gamzee talking to?

Turns out that he's, shockingly enough, talking to himself.

You sigh deeply through your nose, stuffing your hands moodily in the front pocket of your hoodie, and admire the spectacle that is Gamzee every day of his life.

He's upside down on the couch, his upper half where his legs should be, his legs straight up in the air.

He's staring at the TV that isn't even turned on through half-lidded eyes.

You have no idea what he's saying to himself, because it just sounds like a jumble of randomly picked words thrown together.

This is not the Gamzee you saw last night.

Or rather, didn't see.

You had to have made that all up in your head in your quest to find sanity.

To find closure.

You can't help but feel a little disappointed.

But you guess it's unfair to expect so much from Gamzee.

This is who he is, this doofy, irritating, clown-worshipping pot head.

Not the ideal person you created in your head.

You can't change who Gamzee is.

"Hey asshole," You grumble, moving to stand in front of the TV, "what the fuck are you doing?"

Gamzee's eyes barely register your presence.

But, somehow, he still replies in a haze.

"Getting my motherfuckin' life on brother…"

He is really, really high.

"Gamzee, wha-"

He sits up, staring at you through wide eyes for a few seconds, and then his head snaps to the right to look at the sliding door to the back yard.

"Shit, bro… Let's up and get our adventure on…"

You turn your gaze to whatever the hell Gamzee is talking about and oh god.

There are woods behind Gamzee's house.

He is _not_ thinking about fucking going out there in this state, is he?

He's fucking insane (that's not something that ever stopped being a thing.)

You wouldn't volunteer for that sober.

Going outside?

Ha.

"Gamzee, what the fucking hell are you talking about? You need to chill out for a sec and let that shit wear off."

But he's determined.

It looks like he's trying to look determined too, but he really just looks like he's squinting into a too-bright light.

He's off of the couch and heading towards the door before you can say anything more.

He's halfway out, barefoot and red-eyed, when you realize that he really is going to fucking do it.

God damn it.

Was this really happening right now?

"Gamzee! Wait! Fuck…"

You scramble to find your shoes.

You run to your room, slip them on without even bothering to put on socks, and run back and out the door.

Gamzee's started to what looks like attempt to skip towards the thicket of trees.

You run a hand through your hair as follow at a slower pace.

Did he do this shit when he was alone?

Wander out into the fucking woods high out of his mind?

He could get fucking lost.

He could get fucking hurt.

You sound like a worried fucking mother.

Fuck it.

This is happening.

You are going out into the woods with Gamzee Makara.

If you die, your romcom collection goes to John.

At least he would put them to good use.


	18. Really, Really Desperate

_Author's note: PSYCHE!_

* * *

><p><strong>Be Eridan.<strong>

(Oh, wow.

Uh.

Are you sure you want to be Eridan right now?

Are you really sure?

Wouldn't you rather focus on Gamzee or someone else for a little longer?

I don't think you understand the magnitude of the situation you're getting yourself into.

This could very easily be a mistake on your part.

You're sure?

Well, okay.

But don't say I didn't warn you.)

...

Sometimes you think Harry Potter is the only person who really gets you.

The only person who really understands.

Well, Harry Potter and the tub of chocolate ice cream you're viciously tearing into.

You and Harry are kindred spirits.

You're both outcasts.

It's you and Harry against the world.

Not to mention, he has girl problems just like you.

All of the girl problems.

It's just so fuckin' unfair!

You can't have the girl of your dreams just like Harry can't have that hottie Cho Chang (you're only on the fourth movie and you haven't read the books, but that doesn't keep you from being a hardcore fan!)

You can't believe Fef is movin' away.

Why won't she answer you?

You just want to know the details.

You wanna know how long you have to sweep her off a her fuckin' feet before she disappears from your life forever.

You've left her 3 voice mails and 8 texts.

Soon to be nine texts.

The ninth is just exclamation points.

You just wish you could find someone who really appreciates you.

You give and give and give to people, but you never receive anythin' in return.

You are sick n tired of this shit.

You would even hang out with Eq if it meant gettin' the recognition you deserve!

Well…

No, maybe not that far.

…Okay you would, you really are that desperate.

You send him a text asking if he wanted to come over and watch movies with you.

You say that you have ice cream.

And, er, towels.

His response is simply, 'D - No'

You become a crumpled, sobbing mess on the couch.

You get tears in your ice cream.

Why doesn't anybody want you?

Why do people act like you have some contagious disease?

You don't mean any harm…

You're just…

Lonely…

* * *

><p><em>Author's note again: I'm sorry. It had to be done. I couldn't control myself.<em>

_Also, FanFiction keeps messing up Eq's quirk. Aww. I guess that's how it's gonna have to be. USE YOUR IMAGINATION._


	19. Worry

_Author's note: Sorry for the lack of updates these past few days! I've been kind of busy with back to school preparations. But I'm planning on updating as much as I can before school starts up again! _

* * *

><p><strong>Be Karkat<strong>

Gamzee's climbing a tree.

This is making you really, really nervous.

Everytime he climbs a branch higher, you cringe.

You feel like an old lady watching and fretting as her precious kitten precariously walks through a minefield.

Except Gamzee isn't precious.

And he's not a kitten.

And you do _not_ feel that way about him.

Not even platonically.

Also, that's a tree, not a minefield.

Still, you can't help but feel like this isn't such a good thing for him to be doing in his state.

And it's not like you can really do anything about it.

You tried to convince him not to, but Gamzee is not easily swayed seeing as he doesn't process any information anyone relays to him half of the time.

There was no way you could've held him back either.

Gamzee, though docile he may be, is really fucking strong.

Unlike your wimpy scrawny ass.

So you've taken a seat at the base of a tree opposite the one Gamzee is navigating to simply wait for the worst possible scenario to happen.

You can feel your stomach in your throat.

Every time he falters or his foot slips a little, your blood goes cold.

By the time this is over, your entire fucking head of hair is going to be grey.

"God damn it Gamzee, will you come down from there already? I swear to god, you are going to fucking kill yourself or something."

Gamzee says something in reply but you can't hear him clearly enough to make out what it is.

He starts to come back down, and it is even more nerve-wracking than it was when he was climbing up.

You can't even fucking look.

You pull your hood up over your head and focus on your shoes.

You are not worried about Gamzee Makara.

You will not blame yourself if something happens.

You do not care about him.

If anything happens, it's just because he was being a fucking idiot.

Not because you weren't doing a good job of looking after him.

After a few minutes of grunts from monkey-Gamzee and the sound of his shoes scraping against the bark, you dare to glance back up.

Just as it fucking happens.

He loses his balance and he falls.

Thankfully he wasn't very high up any longer, but the sound of his body hitting the ground makes you feel like you are going to puke.

"Jesus fucking christ! Fuck, are you okay?"

You're on your feet and rushing over to him before you can even think about it.

Gamzee looks dazed(well, more dazed than usual,) but he still fucking grins up at you like the world is just all fucking unicorns and sunshine.

"Shiiit, I fucking wiped the fuck out, motherfucker," he replies in that infuriating drawl of his.

You just stare at him incredulously for a moment, your mouth hanging open, before you…

Laugh.

You laugh.

And you keep laughing.

You can't stop.

You laugh so hysterically that your ribs start to hurt.

You double over.

Tears form in your eyes.

Gamzee laughs along, though in a more airy, dreamy kind of way.

It takes you a while to regain your composure.

When you do, you feel appalled.

But…

Kind of good.

You haven't _laughed_ in so long.

You don't know why Gamzee falling out of a tree was so god damned humorous to you, but shit, it felt good to laugh.

You had almost forgotten what it felt like.

You look down at Gamzee and he's just gazing back up at you with his hands folded over his chest.

He'd look smug if he didn't look so fucking goofy.

You shake your head and begrudgingly hold a hand out to him.

"Get up, dumbass."

He takes it.

You help him up.

He pulls you into a tight hug before you can let go.

You stiffen, but you can't help but awkwardly half-hug him back.

He won't remember it anyway.

You hate to say it, but Gamzee is a nice hugger.

You pretend, just for a second, that he's the Gamzee you're absolutely positive you dreamed up last night.

You rest your forehead against his chest.

And you stay like that for a while.

Until you feel him go limp.

Suddenly his whole body weight is leaning against you.

Gamzee is a lot heavier than you.

You find yourself falling backwards and painfully colliding with the ground beneath you.

The air is knocked right out of your lungs.

Gamzee is laying on top of you.

No.

_No_.

This is not what you want.

You are not going to do this again.

He sits up on his elbows and smiles down at you.

His face is way too close for your tastes.

It makes your heart do things you aren't going to admit to.

"Sorry about that, Karbrother. I fuckin' accidentally up and got my nap on right then."

You shove him off.

You are on your feet and heading back to the house before he can even get up.

God damn it.

God fucking damn it.

Why does everything have to get ruined?

Why is everything so fucked up?

You know Gamzee didn't mean it, but fuck.

It just reminded you of Sollux.

And that was a blow to the chest.

You know you should let it go, but the wound is still fresh.

You don't need Gamzee to unintentionally rub salt in it.

You spare a glance back once you reach the door.

Thankfully he's followed you back.

You lock yourself in your room and sit on the edge of your bed, digging your nails into your palms.

You need to call Kanaya.


	20. Observations

** Be Gamzee.**

You haven't been high since last night.

Sometimes you pretend to be and observe the way other people act around you.

How they really feel about you.

It's an interesting experience.

They don't hold back as much as they would if you were sober.

You're glad you were able to make Karkat laugh like that.

He really needed it, you can tell.

Karkat deserves to laugh.

You're also glad that he hugged you back.

It was so nice to see him let go for those few minutes.

To feel him relax in your arms.

And to know that you had that effect on him.

It's nice to be able to make someone happy again.

You hope you'll be able to see him smile more from now on.


	21. Parisian Sunset

_Author: Update your god damned fic already._

_You all but throw Kanaya/Rose fluff at your readers in hopes that your offering will make up for the lack of updates that you had previously promised._

* * *

><p><strong>Be Kanaya.<strong>

As always, your best friend has the most impeccable timing.

Your eyelids flutter open and meet your lover's.

She has one eyebrow raised inquisitively, the corner of her mouth turned up in a snarky grin.

You stroke her cheek lightly with one long-nailed finger and whisper, "Please excuse me, darling, I believe I must take this," against her lips.

She doesn't argue, just simply leans against the rail of the hotel balcony to for your return and alluringly replies, "Don't keep me waiting."

The contrast between the sunset and Rose's dress makes her look even more exquisite than usual.

You don't know what you did to deserve a girlfriend with such admirable taste.

Or a girlfriend who is so skilled at kissing.

You're a lucky lady.

You shut the door behind you.

Rose is very analytical of the advice you give to Karkat.

You think you would like to skip over her observations and return straight to where you left off.

Yes, most definitely.

You sit down on your plush four-poster hotel bed and hit the green phone button.

"What's troubling you now, Karkat?"

His reply is a string of rushed explanations and curse words and it is really hard on your ear.

You only catch a few snippets clearly here and there.

"Karkat, please, calm yourself down. Recite your speech again, this time with a little dignity, hmm?"

He grunts and is silent for a moment, but it doesn't take him long to start back up.

His story is much shorter and straightforward this time around.

Though you usually enjoy Karkat's theatrics, it can wear you down time after time.

"Kan, Sollux kicked me out. He tried to molest me and I didn't want it and he threw a fit and fucking kicked me out. He was such an fucking asshole, and… it hurt… I had to go to Gamzee's house since you're gone. I don't know what to do. It's so fucking weird here."

Your best friend always seems to find himself in the most unfortunate of circumstances.

"Gamzee hasn't tried to "molest" you has he?"

"Well, uh, no, I mean, not on purpose… I just don't… fuck, I don't know! I don't fucking feel comfortable here!"

You make your voice as gentle as possible.

But you give it a hard edge.

Being so straightforward with Karkat is hard.

He always seems to blow things out of proportion.

But sugar coating your words now is not going to help him.

And you need to help him.

It's your job.

"Karkat, listen please. Gamzee is the only option you have right now."

Karkat makes a noise of protest but you continue.

"I know that it isn't the most appealing scenario you can think of, but you must give him a chance. I don't think it's nearly as bad as you are making it sound. There could be more to him than you think."

"What… What do you mean by that? Gamzee's fucking clear as day. He's a fucking pot head and that's all he's ever been. I don't want to stay with someone who's going to suffocate me with fucking smoke and fucking flirt with me without knowing it."

"Everyone has more to their character than what they show on the surface. You will never know if you don't let him in. Stay a while longer. If you really can not handle it, talk to Terezi. But, surely staying in a house with your ex-lover and Dave Strider wouldn't be better than this, am I correct?"

"Fuck… Yeah, yeah, okay. Just a while longer. I'll just… I'll try? Yeah. I guess I can try."

"It was nice talking to you Karkat."

"Thank you Kan. For being the voice of reason, I guess."

"You're welcome. Now if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to. Goodbye."

"Bye…"

Now…

About that business.

Rose is still patiently waiting outside, the cool autumn breeze blowing through her hair, rustling her dress.

You smirk and place your hands on her hips, touching your foreheads together.

She smiles back.

There's no greater feeling in the world.

"Now where were we?"

You kiss so passionately not even the beauty the light of the sunset casts over Paris can compare.


	22. Goodbyes

** Be Feferi.**

Your phone buzzes _again_.

What is this, the hundredth time now?

You try your hardest not to throw it out the window of your car.

That would certainly bring some peace into your life.

God, why can't he just leave you alone?

You just want to leave without having to face him again.

It makes you feel terrible, like you're a bad person for treating him this way, but Eridan has no boundaries.

He doesn't know when to stop.

And he needs to learn from this.

This is not how you interact with someone.

It's a shame the friendship you once had with him fell apart.

But at least you have something else to occupy yourself with.

You are really looking forward to seeing Sollux again.

Even if it's for the last time in who knows how long.

You would like to stay here and be with your friends and family longer, but you know that there are so many more opportunities for you in Florida.

Working at SeaWorld is going to be so amazing.

You are so excited.

You texted Sollux earlier to make sure it's okay if you stop by, but he never replied.

It isn't like Sollux to ignore a text.

So you just assumed his phone is dead or broken.

Though it's uncommon for either of those things to happen either, you just can't think of any other explanation.

You can't imagine he'll protest too much to you just showing up.

Sollux is usually a pretty great, considerate guy.

He's one of your best friends and it's going to be difficult being so far away from each other.

You have a feeling this goodbye is going to be one of the hardest.

And the most teary.

Oh man, there are going to be so many tears.

Excitement slowly builds in you as you make your way from your car and up the steps to Sollux's apartment.

That excitement disappears when Sollux doesn't answer after you ring the doorbell.

You ring it a second time.

A third...

Maybe he isn't home right now?

But that's his car over there isn't it?

There's electronic parts on the dashboard.

Yeah, that's definitely his car.

So what's he doing?

Is he asleep?

Sollux hardly ever gets enough rest, he has to be awake right now.

"Sol-"

That's when you notice the door.

It isn't shut fully.

You can just barely see into the apartment through the space between the door and the frame.

That…

Now that is really worrying.

He forgot to shut the front door of his house?

Not likely.

Oh god, something's wrong.

Something's wrong.

Your heart starts pounding against your ribcage like a prisoner trying to escape.

You go cold.

This can't be good.

"Sollux?"

You ever-so slowly ease the door open, your knuckles white from your death grip on the doorknob, and it opens half way before hitting something.

Something soft.

But still firm.

Something that stirs ever so slightly.

Cautiously you squeeze yourself through the opening, peek around the door, and…

And…

"Sollux…? Oh god, no!"


	23. Hospital Visits

** Be Eridan.**

You decide to try and call Fef since she hasn't replied to any of your 15 or so texts today.

Or the 6 other calls.

A seventh try wouldn't hurt, right?

It rings…

And rings…

And rings…

And you get sent to her answerin' machine.

You sigh and hang up, not botherin' to send another voicemail.

You're startin' to think maybe you should just give up now.

You lost your chance.

Fef hates you.

She doesn't want to have anythin' to do with a loser like yourself.

But you just…

You want her to know how you feel about her.

She has you all wrong.

You aren't the way she seems to think you are.

She doesn't…

She…

She texted you back?

Sweet motherfuckin' lord.

You…

Your hands tremble.

Fef…

She texted you back!

Automatically your hopes spark way up.

Way higher than healthy.

What if she finally realized that you're perfect for each other?

What if she actually wants to talk?

What if she wants to _hang out?_

You almost can't bring yourself to press the button to read her reply.

It's too thrillin'.

You take a few seconds to calm your breathin' and hit "Read Text."

Oh…

"Eridan, I don't have time for this. I'm in the hospital. Please stop. I'll call the police."

Wh-what…?

Feferi is…

Feferi is in the hospital?

No.

No no no.

No, that can't be fuckin' right.

You must have misunderstood.

You read it over again.

And again.

You're headin' to your car as soon as the shock wears off, keys in hand.

This could be your chance to prove your worth.

This could be your chance to prove how much you really care about her.

She's hurt.

And you're goin' to be there for her.

She's gonna fall for you.

She's gonna fall for you hard.

You just want her to want you too.

That's it.

That's all you want.

Feferi's affection.

That's all you need.

You hope she's okay.

You are goin' to comfort the fuck outta her.

The lady working the desk in the emergency room seems startled by the way you storm in through the automatic doors.

"Can I help you sir?" She asks, concern painted across her face. "What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm here to see someone."

"What's their-"

"I'll find her myself."

You're tearin' through the hallway before she can say more.

You think you hear her callin' for you as you walk away but you don't care enough to turn back.

You stick your head through every open door, meetin' very startled stares from patients and doctors alike, desperately trying to find the right room.

You wonder if maybe you have the wrong hospital.

You can't seem to…

"Eridan Ampora, what are you doing here?"

You whip around so quickly your spine cracks in three places.

Feferi is standin' in the doorway of the room to your left, her arms folded across her chest.

Her hip-length black hair looks puffed up like an angry cat's fur.

Her face is red with frustration.

Your heart shoots straight up into your throat.

"Fef!"

She's alright!

It doesn't look like she has a scratch on her!

You knew your presence would fix everythin'.

You run towards her arms outstretched and…

Whoa.

You freeze.

Feferi seems like she was prepared to shove you away, but she stops too, a startled expression on her face.

Who in the...

Who is _that_ hot piece of ass behind her?

Wow, he doesn't look so fuckin' good.


	24. Comatose

_Author's note: This is for you, anon reviewer! I'm sorry there's been so much time between updates, guys, school has really been draining the life out of me. Sometimes I just need a little push to get rolling again~_

* * *

><p><strong>Be Sollux.<strong>

You don't know where you are.

Or how you got here.

Or why you're so close to unconsciousness.

You can't think straight.

You can't move.

You feel an IV in your wrist and a mask over your face.

Feferi's voice is close to your ear, sweet and soothing with a hint of worry.

You're in the hospital again.

It happened again.

God, how could you be so stupid?

You try to tell Feferi that you're going to be alright, and you think the words come out, but you can't tell.

Everything sounds so far away.

You don't know how you got her involved in this, but you wish you hadn't.

Sometimes you just get so absorbed in your work and…

With Karkat gone…

It was just...

So...

It's just a little dehydration.

You just passed out a little.

All you need is a little water and you'll be out in no time.

You wish she didn't have to worry about you.

You don't know how much time has passed.

How long you've been dancing on the dividing line between awareness and unconsciousness.

How long Feferi has been whispering things you can't make sense of and stroking your face with her soft fingertips.

All you know is it's felt like forever.

Laying in the hospital bed, completely useless, listening to the sound of the heart monitor while trying to grasp at your scattered thoughts.

You think you fall asleep here and there.

You can't tell what's a dream and what isn't.

Is that yelling real?

That voice?

You've never heard that voice before.

Whoever it is, real or not, he sounds like a real douche bag.

His high, whiny voice reminds you of Karkat.

You hate it.

God, you hate it.

You have to be dreaming.

Your subconscious has always liked to torture you.

It reopens fresh wounds that you try so hard to cover up.

It's so loud.

You want the noise to stop.

You want Feferi to stop worrying.

You want the Karkat imposter to go away.

You want the yelling to stop.

It's just like the fights.

You just want everything to stop.

You want to be alone.

You want to be alone.

You want to be alone.

You want to slip into sleep and never wake up.

You just want to die.


	25. Noxious Fumes

_Author's note: Aaand we're back to Karkat's silliness. Shoooosh, Karkat, shooooosh. Your problems are small compared to Sollux's, you'll be fine. Shoosh._

* * *

><p><strong>Be Karkat.<strong>

After you hang up, you sit on the edge of your bed, turning your phone over in your hands.

Talking to Kanaya always helps put things into perspective but…

Most of the time it just leaves you feeling more confused than ever.

Now is one of those times.

You don't think you'll ever fully be comfortable here.

But maybe you should give Gamzee a chance, like Kanaya said.

So far it hasn't been that bad.

Compared to how it was living with Sollux, this is pretty fucking smooth sailing.

But Gamzee is practically a stranger to you now.

And you had known Sollux like the back of your hand.

But maybe the unfamiliarity is a good thing.

Maybe this is good for you.

A clean slate.

A new start.

A chance to…

Make a friend?

Someone who won't treat you like utter shit.

Yeah.

It can't be that bad.

You try to find Gamzee to talk this over with him, but he isn't in the living room or bathroom and his door is locked.

You hope he'll be able to get out if he needs too.

But it does give you some time to adjust to the rest of the house on your own.

You still have to pull the collar of your shirt over you face to deal with the stench.

Maybe you should…

Maybe you should clean up a bit now, if you really are going to be living here.

You start with the pizza boxes(how Gamzee even orders pizza is a mystery to you,) stacking them up in piles in the middle of the living room.

The Leaning Tower of Pizza Boxes is startlingly tall by the time you're finished.

You stuff them into two garbage bags and toss them by the curb outside.

This significantly declutters the house, but not enough to make you feel comfortable.

Next you tackle the empty Faygo cans and bottles.

They fill an entire garbage bag.

You didn't realize just how much useless shit was lying around until this.

Christ.

You kick Gamzee's clown horns into the corner with his…bong, which seems to have been used recently.

Probably while you were talking with Kanaya.

You sigh through the cloth of your shirt.

You don't know why Gamzee smokes so much, but you wish he wouldn't.

It makes you pretty fucking uncomfortable, considering you tried it once in high school and promptly vomited right onto your friends shoes.

Maybe someday you'll be able to help him out of his addiction.

Yeah.

Maybe.

You can't see yourself staying around long enough for that though.

As soon as Kanaya comes home, you'll be out of here.

Probably.

You find air freshener in the bathroom closet after some digging around and spray it wildly throughout the house.

It isn't much of an improvement actually.

It makes you choke just as much as the smell of smoke and rotting pizza did.

You gaze down at the floor, drawing a line in the dirt covering the wood with your toe.

You decide that mopping that can wait until later.

You escape from the fumes into your room, and throw yourself onto your bed.

Feels like all you've done since you came here is lay on your bed.

It's all you've really wanted to do.

All of this bullshit is slowing you down.

The weight on your shoulders leaves your bones feeling broken.

You, Karkat Vantas, are broken.

But you are not weak.

You will put yourself back together.

Eventually.

And you're going to stay that way.

But for now, you are going to take a fucking nap.

You are emotionally and physically drained.

* * *

><p><em>Author's note: High!Gamzee is up next! You guys have been asking for him, and I'm here to please. ;D<em>


	26. Nap Time

_Author's note: Sorry again about the delay! Here's some high!Gamzee for you. Hopefully my offering satisfies you guys._

* * *

><p><strong>Be Gamzee.<strong>

You just got your motherfuckin' smoke on after all up and not doing shit for like fuckin' forever, man.

And by forever you mean like less than a day, if even.

A day is still forever in your eyes.

Time is some trippy shit.

Like how the fuck does it all even _work_?

Who even knows what the fuck it even _is_?

You don't know.

And you don't care enough to find out.

Gotta let shit like that work it's mysterious magic on it's own, y'know?

Yeah.

That shit's fuckin' awesome.

You can hear Karkat's voice all coming from the other room.

Mmm, his voice sounds so motherfuckin' nice.

Like sweet, sugary fuckin' music to your ear drums.

Your ears are greedy motherfuckers.

That kind of voice does _things_ to you.

Miraculous things.

Things you don't understand.

Things you don't care enough about to figure out.

You're so glad your best friend is here with you.

You let out the breathiest fuckin' sigh, rolling over onto your back, gazing up at the ceiling like you like to do sometimes.

You slip your hand slowly underneath those silly layers of cloth covering you up (why do people even have to wear things like pants? Who up and decided that?)

And you groan.

Your whole body goes so fuckin' warm.

It feels…

So.

Good.

But then Karkat stops talking and you frown a big fuckin' frown.

What all made him do that?

You hope a brother is okay.

Best Friend's been acting all shades of mopey lately.

Dude just needs to get his cuddle on and chill the fuck down.

Shoosh, man, shoosh.

It's okay.

Only cuddles now.

You roll off the bed and hit the floor like a fuckin' log or some shit.

You make a loud, echo-y noise 'n' shit too.

You laugh.

Maybe you shouldn't have locked your door behind you.

Who even needs things like locks?

What's even the _point_?

You just didn't want Karbrother to see you.

It takes you a good 10 minutes to open the door.

And by 10 minutes, you mean forever.

Turns out Karbro fell right the fuck to sleep again.

He sure does sleep a lot.

You wonder why the fuck that is.

You crawl right into bed next to the little fucker and he makes the cutest fucking noise and rests his head right onto your chest.

You smile.

Yeah.

That's totally cool with you.

You wrap an arm around him, and you even put your hand in those pants of yours again, but you just end up getting your nap on too.

Shit's too comfy.

Fucker's too cute.

A bro can't help but conk the fuck out.

Nap time is always up and more chill with a snuggly motherfucker to share it with.

You wish you'd be able to do this shit more often.


	27. Snuggles Sans Bullshit

** Be Karkat.**

You wake up with your head on Gamzee's slowly rising and falling chest, for the first time.

And for some reason, you don't push him away.

It's a little…

Awkward, yes.

But it isn't uncomfortable.

He's really warm.

And the arm he has around you feels…

Soothing.

You dare to move a little closer to him.

Just a little bit.

You don't want to make things weird.

Well, weirder.

His hand is down his pants and he's drooling onto your pillow.

That's kind of really fucking weird.

But it's better than condescending bullshit.

Maybe you could get used to this.

Eventually.


	28. Wait a Second

** Be Karkat.**

Wait.

Wait wait wait.

Gamzee has…

His hand…

_Down his pants_.

NO.

NO, FUCK THAT.

FUCK.

IT.

* * *

><p><em>Author's note: Haha, and you guys thought Karkat would actually be okay with that. You are silly.<em>


	29. Playful Competition

_Author's note: Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about them. ;3_

* * *

><p><strong>Be Terezi.<strong>

Last night was a total blur of red, sweat, hair pulling, shitty moaned raps, and finger paints.

You have red Pixy Stix powder in places it doesn't belong.

You made him make noises that would put his cool kid facade to shame.

And you better fucking believe you got those shades of his off.

His eyes are so god damn decadent.

Along with every other part of him.

He tastes like nothing you've ever tasted before.

Heehee.

Also, you drew a penis on his butt with your tongue and black paint.

It's still there.

The perfect crime.

Terezi: 1.

Dave: 0.


	30. Over and Over and Over

** Be Dave.**

Pyrope is a total freak in bed.

That level of irony may never be reached again for as long as you live.

But you bet your sweet plush rump you're going to try.

Over and over and over again.


	31. Worthless

** Be Tavros.**

Lately you've been having this really strange feeling in between classes.

A prickling on the back of your neck.

A sudden chill washing over your whole body.

It makes you clench your fists around the wheels of your chair.

It feels like somebody is watching you.

Following you.

It makes you really, really nervous.

Surely you're just being crazy.

You're just imagining things.

After all, you're just silly little immature Tavros with his silly little imagination.

But still…

You don't want to take any chances.

You've tried wheeling yourself around campus more swiftly, but it wears out your arms in no time and you end up going at your usual pace anyway (you wish someone would help push you…)

You can't think of a reason someone would have for following you…

Unless it's…

No, he wouldn't do that.

Would he?

No, you're sure he wouldn't.

Every so often you catch a flash of long black hair from the corner of your eye.

It definitely isn't him.

But who could it be?

If it keeps happening, you're gonna go to somebody for help.

But…

You don't have anybody to go to anymore.

Nobody.

You don't have any friends.

You pushed your very last one, the one person you were close to, the one person who really made you happy, away.

And now, you feel like…

Like you're in danger.

And now you have no one to look to for help.

You're alone.

You don't know what to do.

You're always so helpless, even when you don't mean to be.

By breaking away from Gamzee, you meant to become stronger.

To become independent.

To become confident.

But you've only become more worthless than before.

And now you could be killed.

And it's all your fault.


	32. Oh Hell No

**Be Aradia.**

Vriska is at it again.

You can see her eyeing her prey ravenously from across the lecture hall.

Usually you'd just turn your head in the other direction and let it go.

Just let it go.

As long as it didn't involve you, you had seen no point in getting involved with her schemes.

But _this._

This is taking it too far.

Way too far.

This time it's the poor, timid paraplegic boy in the front row (the lecture hall doesn't have a handicap ramp.)

He can't defend himself against her.

He has no chance against someone so vicious.

This is a game of cat and mouse to Vriska.

A game that only the cat can win if the mouse can't run away.

You can't believe she's stooping this low just to pull a reaction from you!

It's been years since your fight, why can't she just drop it?

Well…

You guess this time it worked.

You shouldn't butt in.

You shouldn't give her the satisfaction.

But this is something you just can't allow.

You are not okay with this.

Time for the dog to show the cat who's boss.

She's just going to have to find a more suitable victim elsewhere.

This is going to get ugly.


	33. All Sorts of Flustered

** Be Gamzee**

Karbro sure fuckin' likes all up and shoving you away all angry like.

He gets his shout on at you about some shit that goes right out of your fuckin' ears because damn, you are a sleepy motherfucker.

Then he locks himself in his bathroom in a huge fuckin' huff.

You wonder what a brother's problem is.

Ain't nothing worth being all sorts of flustered all the motherfuckin' time.


	34. It's Hard

**Be Karkat**

Why can't you just be happy?

Why can't you just be alone?

Why do you have to sit in the shower with your knees to your chest to feel _safe_?

Apparently normal relationships are just something you're never going to have.

You might as well just accept it now.

Karkat Vantas will never have a typical, healthy relationship fucking _ever_.

Sometimes you wonder if romcoms simply exist just to torture the lonely.

And then other times you don't give half of a fuck because they are so damn good.

You tell yourself that you're not crying, that it's just the water from the showerhead running down your cheeks.

The shower isn't even turned on.

Why is it that you can't figure out what you want?

You don't know what to do with yourself.

You're hopeless.

So hopeless.

You resist the urge to call Kanaya again and beg her to come home.

To come home and take you in like a stray, flea-infested puppy who would probably just shit all over her house.

But you know that she'll just tell you that you're making a big deal out of "a circumstance that doesn't require all of this blubbering."

And you guess you are.

You know you are.

But god damn it, it's hard!

Pulling your hood over your head, you bite down on the collar of your hoodie to try to stifle your sobbing.

It's hard having so much shit going on in your head.

All of these emotions that make it so hard to function.

Anger.

Regret.

Loneliness.

Regret.

Anxiety.

Regret.

Confusion.

Longing.

Mostly regret.

It's hard.

And you don't know what to do about it.

You don't know how to help yourself.

You just want someone to help you.

Really help you.

Not someone who will baby you or boss you around like Kanaya.

She means well, you know she cares about you, but she doesn't really get you like you wish she would.

Plus, she's too busy with her goddamn girlfriend to have any time for you.

You want empathy.

Someone who really understands.

Someone who will be there for you.

Someone who _knows_.

Someone who cares.

You'll never find them.

But you can wish.

God, do you wish.

And hope.

And once you prayed, more for theatrics than anything, but the point still stands.

It's never going to happen, so why do you still try?

You're stuck with people like Sollux and Gamzee.

Well, just Gamzee now.

Gamzee is the opposite of what you need.

This is the opposite of what you need.

You need to get out.

You need fresh air.

You need to calm down and get your sanity back.

This is pathetic.

This shit you're doing here?

This whining?

This is pathetic.

You are Karkat Vantas, and god damn it, you are going to do something about this!

You're going to change this!

You're going to fix things for yourself.

You're going on a walk.

You don't say a word to the drooling lump on your bed as you leave.

You don't slam the doors though, like you usually would, so you don't wake him again.


	35. This is Stupid

** Be Karkat**

This is stupid.

Walks are stupid.

People are stupid.


	36. Professional Romance

_Author's note: Backstreet's back, ALRIGHT!_

* * *

><p><strong>Be Terezi<strong>

Sometimes you just can't get over how incredibly romantic your cool kid can be sometimes.

Dates at Wal-mart are your favorite.

And he knows it.

And definitely uses it to his advantage.

He's been walking around the store with a holey clearance lampshade on his head.

And those really kind of creepy Pillowpet things around his arms like battle armor.

Occasionally he stops to strike a sexy, straight-faced pose in your direction.

His irony is a bit of a stretch today, but you know that it's just because he's trying to impress you.

Dave should know by now that impressing you doesn't take much.

He does it without even meaning to, because damn, does that boy know how to keep a girl attached to his hip.

It's like your fused to him like a Siamese twin.

And you are totally okay with it.

Would being his Siamese twin make your relationship incestuous?

Yeah, you think, probably.

You're okay with that too.

You have an armful of assorted red candies in your arms that he's paying for like a gentleman, and a present from the gumball machine around your finger.

Every so often you glance at it and smile.

And when he sees you looking, he smiles too.

If only for half of a second.

Half of a second is more than enough for you.

You sneak sloppy tongue kisses in aisles that aren't exactly the most appropriate for kissing.

For example, in the feminine products aisle.

And then next to the raw meat.

The butcher gave you a very strange, very disgusted look.

Dave gave him a "sup" nod, struck another sexy pose just for him, and then walked away.

You just cackled and latched onto Dave's arm.

He kissed you again and it was totally sweet.

This date couldn't possibly get any better, could it?

But then it totally does.

As you're walking out of the store to Dave's truck, candy-filled plastic bags in tow, you see him.

You and Dave exchange a look.

He gives you a thumbs up thumbs up and a sly smirk.

You take a deep breath.

You drop the bags.

You run.


	37. Soda

**Be Karkat.**

WALKING TO WAL-MART FOR A SODA WAS A STUPID FUCKING IDEA.

A_ REALLY_, REALLY FUCKING STUPID IDEA.

OH FUCK.

OH.

FUCK.

ABORT MISSION.

RETREAT, RETREAT.

FUCK FUCK FUCK.

Okay.

Okay, no.

Calm down.

You, Karkat Vantas, are going to die.

It's no big deal.

You are just going to totally fucking die, right here, right now.

Dying is welcome in this situation.

She sees you.

Here she comes, running towards you.

You imagine her brandishing a knife to go along with the murderous smirk on her face.

Goodbye cruel world.

You hope there will be a soda waiting for you in the afterlife.


	38. Promises

_Author's note: Oh gosh, I'm sorry for the big delay guys! Life's been getting in the way of my writing lately, and I lost motivation there for a while. Sometimes I just need a little push to get going again! I do this mostly for you guys so if I take way too long to update, if any of you ever wanna drop me a little reminder to get my booty writing, you can message me on my tumblr! My url is Nanchoparty. It's much easier to get in contact with me there than it is on here. Anyway, hope you like it!_

* * *

><p><strong>Be Sollux<strong>

There's a stranger sitting next to your hospital bed.

You pretend to be unconscious still while you look him over through your eyelashes.

You've never seen this guy before in your life.

So then, what the fuck is he doing here?

Is he visiting you?

What reason would he have for that?

He's wringing his hands together and his eyes keep flickering from staring at the wall, to the door, to you, and back.

Who is this dumbass and what the hell does he want from you?

The way he's dressed makes him look like an idiot.

The thick rimmed glasses he's wearing probably aren't even prescription and he's wearing a scarf even though it isn't even winter yet.

Or is it?

Who knows how long you've been out.

You don't dare make a sound.

You don't want to confront him, you have no idea what to expect from a guy like this.

You'll just wait until he leaves, and call a nurse in.

Ask her what the hell all that was about.

And then go home.

Everything will be back to normal.

You'll go home and get back to work and Karkat will nag you and…

Wait.

Oh.

Oh right.

You guess you forgot about that.

Things will be almost normal with a side of sharp regret, but you guess that's how your life's been like for a while now.

"Okay, I'm back, sorry I took so long. Is he awake yet?"

Feferi's voice.

Oh god, Feferi's voice is so nice to hear right about now.

She sounds stressed.

Really, really stressed.

Shit, what you must have put her through…

She must have been so worried.

Wasn't she supposed to have left for Florida by now?

Oh no, she didn't postpone it for you, did she…?

"Nah, still out. Hasn't moved a fuckin' bit."

The sound of the stranger's voice makes you clench the bed sheets.

He has a superior tone, like a snobby rich kid who is nothing but better than you.

You want him to leave.

Right fucking now.

You guess now is a good time as ever to "wake up."

You flutter your eyelids open, squinting against the harsh, bright lighting, and groan.

Both of them whip around, and Feferi runs to your side, dropping the bag she was carrying on the floor.

"Sollux?" She holds your face in her hands, her eyes, filled with worry, locked onto yours.

"Heh, hey Fef. How long was I out?"

She sighs deeply and pulls you into a hug.

You rest your head against her shoulder.

"How long was I out?"

"A few days. The doctor's say it was a combination of stress and dehydration. Sollux, you had me SO worried!"

She holds you an arms length away, her brow twisted in frustration.

"You did it again! You forgot to take care of yourself, and look what happened! You-"

Oh, not this again.

The babying.

She acts like she's your fucking mother.

You hate when she gets like this, it's none of her business.

"Feferi, I'm not a child, I can take care of myself just fine. I was working and I didn't have time for anything else. It's fine, it isn't going to happen again."

She holds your gaze for so long that after a while you have to look away, but eventually her grip on you softens and she pulls you back into a hug and rubs your back with one hand.

"Promise me, okay? Promise me that it won't. I can't be here if it happens again."

"I promise, I promise."

This time you pull away.

And your expression hardens.

The stranger's face goes red and he shifts awkwardly in his chair.

"Who's he?"

"Huh? Oh. Uh, this is Eridan, Sollux! He's just been keeping me company for a while."

_What?_

Eridan?

As in, the Eridan that Feferi has always complained about?

Stalker Eridan with his obnoxious amount of texts and his creepy voicemails?

The Eridan that has made Feferi's life hell?

Oh, fuck no.

No, you are not fucking okay with this.

You knew you had a reason to dislike him from the moment you saw him.

He is going to regret daring to step foot near you.

You are going to teach this asshole a fucking lesson.

"You stupid fucking…" You growl, throwing your legs off of your bed, ignoring the protesting of your muscles.

"Sollux, what are you… Sollux, NO!"

Feferi grabs your arm tightly, but you shake her off.

You stand up.

Your head goes fuzzy, but you don't care.

Eridan shrinks back and his hands tremble as he holds them up in surrender, but you don't care.

You lunge for him.


	39. Understanding

_Author's note: I find writing in class when you should be paying attention the best way to get chapters done. _

_I also find Eridan to be one of the hardest characters to write for. _

* * *

><p><strong>Be Eridan.<strong>

You have no idea what just fuckin' happened.

One second Sollux was totally fuckin' okay and then the next he was on the floor, groaning and clawing at your pant leg.

But not before his fist collided with your jaw.

In a stupor, you cup your hand over it as it throbs uncomfortably until the pain registers in your brain.

Fef helps Sol back onto the bed scoldin' him, for both punchin' you and for carelessly gettin' up too quickly than he should've.

You don't say anything'.

You don't even get mad.

For once in your fuckin' life, you don't even get mad.

And you don't know why.

You just stare.

And when he pulls himself back together, Sol stares back.

His expression is hard and he looks like a viper poised to strike again.

His eyes are different colors.

One golden brown, one blue.

That combined with his slight lisp that you can tell he tries hard to hide, and his habit for forget to eat, he's a bundle of quirks.

Just like you…

Well.

You'd like to think you're quirky.

It makes it easier to deal with the fuckin' rejection if you can hold a reason to it.

In reality, you're just plain.

And you know you try too hard to be different, god, you know, but old habits die hard.

You just want to be noticed.

You just want to be noticed, and wanted by someone.

You don't want to be so fuckin' lonely anymore.

You don't know how long your eyes have been locked on his, but eventually Sollux's brow furrows again and he begins to say something as Feferi grips his forearm tightly.

"Sollux," you don't think you've ever heard Fef put as much force into her voice before, not even with you. "Sollux, we talked about it. About everything that had been going on. And I told him why we wouldn't be right for each other and he understood. We came to an agreement. Everything is okay."

It takes a few moments for Sollux to process this, but eventually his expression softens ever so slightly.

But his gaze remains steady and unwavering.

It's fuckin' unnerving.

"Everything's fixed, Sol."

Finally, he looks down at his hands.

He picks at the hem of his hospital gown before he makes any kind of response.

"…Okay. Okay, whatever. Great. Good for you."

A pause.

"Sorry about your face."

Sol doesn't look at you, instead at the wall next to you, but it sounds sincere enough to you.

That's more of an apology than you ever fuckin' get.

"Bruises heal," is all you say.

Now he dares to look you in the eyes.

And his expression reminds you of a surprised child.

Wide, slightly watery eyes with lightly parted lips.

He swallows and then…

After a bit of hesitation…

Holds a hand out to you.

You shake it.

You've come to an understanding, about what exactly, you aren't sure, but whatever it is…

It feels real fuckin' good.

Feferi just shakes her head.

You manage to laugh a little, just a small chuckle, for the first time in a while.

You feel a flicker of hope deep in your chest.

You feel like you could have a chance to…

Not be so lonely.

Maybe you won't be so fuckin' lonely anymore.


	40. Selfishness

_Author's note: Writing this made me cry._

* * *

><p><strong>Be Karkat.<strong>

Dave's truck pulls into Gamzee's bumpy driveway.

Terezi turns around to shout something back at you, but you're slamming the rusted car door behind you before she can manage even one word.

Dave honks before driving away and you don't even humor them with a middle finger.

You slam the front door and you don't even make it to your room, you just collapse right there onto the floor.

So much for talking a walk to clear your head.

If anything, you feel more stressed and exhausted and all around horrible than you did before you left.

Seeing Terezi Pyrope after months of no contact was not something you wanted.

Being dragged into a car with Terezi Pyrope and Dave Strider, kicking and screaming, was not something you wanted.

Being forced to have dinner at fucking Hooters with Terezi Pyrope and her boyfr-

Fiancé.

Dave was her fiancé now, as you were reminded more times than a centipede could count on its legs tonight.

He proposed to her with a flimsy ring from one of those quarter machines at the entrance of Walmart.

It is absolutely ridiculous to you, but Terezi seemed just tickled pink about the whole god damn thing.

And she did not hesitate to rub it in your face.

You don't think you'll be able to wash it from your face for a good long while, it's probably clogged in your pores.

Even though you haven't had romantic feelings for her for a long time, the whole engagement announcement over shitty hot wings left a bad taste in your mouth and a hollowness in your chest.

It didn't feel right.

Terezi was the girl who was supposed to be in love with you.

It is such a selfish thing to say, but that's just always how it had been for so long.

From elementary school through middle school, Terezi was the girl who was in love with you and you just accepted that.

It was a fact of life, everyone knew it, Terezi was in love with you.

It was off-putting for a long time, she was so forward, but eventually you couldn't help but give into her.

She's very convincing.

You dated from 8th grade until the middle of Sophmore year, and she was in love with you and maybe you were kind of in love with her too.

And then he showed up.

Dave Strider swooped in on a gust of asswind, carrying roses and spewing ironic pick up lines for every orfice, and he stole that all away from you.

You guess you really fucking blew up and said things to Terezi that you should not have and you guess you deserved the torture you just had to endure because of that.

You fucked up, and this was her way of making sure you knew that.

Or maybe it wasn't, maybe it was totally harmless and you are just taking it completely wrong.

Both are very probable.

All you know is, you aren't sure what to feel.

Happy for Terezi for being happy, or absolutely miserable for losing her 4 years ago and being alone.

Maybe you're a mixture of both.

You wonder if you stick your fingers down your throat, maybe you'll be able to puke up all of these feelings and maybe be able to relax for even a few minutes.

You never did get that soda.

You settle for a flat cherry Faygo from the dirty, sticky fridge.

It tastes like shit, but it flushes away some of the disgusting taste of regret and crappy chicken.

You stand there in the middle of the dimly lit kitchen, bottle pressed to your lips, staring blankly ahead of you for a while.

You aren't sure what to do with yourself.

If you could hold alcohol, you'd probably drink yourself to unconsciousness, but it doesn't take much before it all starts coming back up.

You need to do something.

You need to stop thinking.

You need to talk to someone, you need consoling.

You're like an unhappy infant, you need someone to pat you on the back and making shooshing noises in your ear before you start fucking crying.

You are not going to cry again, you won't allow yourself to.

You are not going to call Kanaya again, you aren't going to let her know how pathetically you are handling all of this.

You have no other option but to face Gamzee now.

It's not like he'll even retain any of what he'll hear, he won't be able to judge you for being pathetic.

He'll just collect you up in his arms and go, "Get your chill on Karbrother," or some variant of that and really, that's all you need.

When nudge open his door, you expect to see him strewn out on his bed, glassy eyed and probably drooling on himself.

But that's not what greets you.

Instead you see a Gamzee, sitting cross-legged in the middle of his floor, facing away from you with his head bowed.

He's trembling.

What the hell is happening?

Is he smoking…?

You can't tell.

There isn't any smoke.

"Gamzee…?"

You nearly whispered his name, but he still jumps so violently you'd think he'd just seen the devil.

His head whips around and his eyes are wide, bloodshot and…

Alert.

Panicked.

He's looking at you, really looking at you.

He is sober, and this time you know he is sober, it isn't just a trick of your mind.

You are looking into the eyes of Gamzee, the real Gamzee.

He yanks his sleeves down over his arms and he stands up quickly, shakily, and backs away from you.

"K-Karbrother, you all up and fuckin' startled me, man… Didn't think you'd be fuckin' back so early…"

He's trying to slur his words like you can't already tell he isn't "himself."

He can't fool you that easily.

"Gamzee, what…? Is everything oka-"

It isn't.

Everything is not okay.

You can see the blood dripping down his fingers from underneath his baggy sleeves.

Fuck.

Oh _fuck_.

"Holy shit dude, you're bleeding, what the hell happened?"

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out but a small strangled noise.

You rush towards him and he tries to back up further but he bumps into the wall and you grab his sleeves and pull them back to his elbows.

Oh.

That's what happened.

You look up at him, mouth agape, just as tears start to spill out of his eyes.

"Gamzee, I…"

His face screws up with so much pain that all of the breath leaves your lungs as if you just took a brick to the chest.

You get teary eyed too.

Before the action even registers in your brain, you're in the bathroom grabbing two towels and then you're kneeling next to Gamzee who's slid down the wall and onto the floor and you're pressing the towels to his cuts to soak up the blood and you're saying, "I'm sorry," over and over and over again until your voice is hoarse.

He's silently sobbing as you're wrapping his arms in bandages.

He whispers, "Thank you… thank you…" into your shoulder when you pull him into a hug and keep him there for a long time because you know you are not the one who needs it now, he is.

When you both stop crying, you don't ask him what's wrong because you won't make him say it.

You know whatever it is, it's too painful, way too painful.

You sit with him, applying gentle pressure to his bandages, and you tell him, "I'm here," and he nods.

You've been so stupid.

So ignorant.

So selfish.

You've been so wrapped up in your own problems, your own meaningless problems, that you haven't once stopped to think about how Gamzee was feeling.

You complained about sharing a house with a "pot-head" without considering that maybe he need the drugs.

Needed them to cope with whatever had made him break down tonight.

You never stopped to think about Gamzee, even when he called you his best friend, even when he was nothing but kind to you, giving you a roof over your head and food to eat.

You never stopped to think that maybe someone had it worse than you did.

But you know now.

You know and you're going to make it better.

You're going to make up for how long you had spent ignoring Gamzee, taking him for granted, mocking him.

You're going to help him, because he needs it.

God damn it, he deserves it.

You look into his eyes, the paint around them smudged and streaked with tears, and he looks back.

You jolt a little when he suddenly speaks, his voice gravelly from crying but incredibly steady and clear.

He asks, "Tomorrow, if I ask you to go somewhere with me, will you go?"

And you say, "Sure, of course."

And the corners of his lips twitch and with the way that his muscles relax and the way that he sighs through his nose, you can tell that what you've done tonight has meant a lot to him.

You can tell that he is absolutely spent, emotionally and physically, so you tell him to get some rest and he obliges.

You sit on his bed while he sleeps, keeping a watchful eye on him for the rest of the night.

You don't get much sleep but you figure you've had enough to last you the rest of the week.

This is more important to you.

Making sure that Gamzee is okay.

Suddenly, what happened earlier tonight doesn't even fucking matter to you anymore.

It doesn't even fucking matter.


	41. Only Forward

_Author's note: I had this and the next two chapters written and then I lost the file so I had to rewrite them. And not as well either. Wweh. Enjoy anyway, babbies~ Thank you SO much for all of the positive feedback on the last chapter! You guys, you wonderful readers and reviewers, are why I write this silly fanfiction and knowing you like it so much is so motivating! Come here, let me kiss all of your faces. Muah. =3=_

* * *

><p><strong>Be Tavros.<strong>

This nice girl named Aradia came up to you after class in the lecture hall and asked to walk with you back to the dorms, and you said yes because you really didn't know what else to do.

Though you automatically assumed the worst, like you always do, it was…

It was nice.

The leaves have all fallen from their branches and rest in unraked piles along the sidewalk and it's cold but not too cold and the sun shines down on you as you listen to Aradia's voice and get to know her a little.

You pull your hoodie closer around you and lean back in your wheelchair while she pushes you (she asked so nicely, how could you say no?) and when she cracks a joke, you laugh.

You really do and you don't even try to cover your mouth because you guess you don't really mind much that she hears your dorky laugh.

In any other situation, you would be incredibly anxious and stutter and shake and just flat out make a fool of yourself but…

Something about the Aradia speaks so gently and the way she strings her words puts you at ease.

And you can't help but feel like this is a good place to be.

Today, you don't feel that odd chill down your spine.

You don't feel eyes watching you as you make your way back home.

You don't see the flash of black hair or hear the giggle you are almost sure you're making up in your head.

You feel safe.

So when Aradia has to part ways with you with but a pat on the shoulder and a small "See you later," you feel disappointed even though you've only just met her.

Alone.

Vulnerable.

And so you hurry quickly to your dorm room before you can be hurt without the newly adopted safety blanket that is company wrapped around your shoulders.

And you slam the door behind you.

You feel as if you should to the typical throwing yourself on your bed thing but since you can't really do that, you sort of just awkwardly crawl onto your bed and stare out the window at the barebones tree branches and the breeze that softly shakes them.

On one hand you know that this is a very good thing, the possibility to make a friend that will care about you as much as Gamzee did.

But at the same time, something about it feels off.

Something that can't be see on the surface, but quickly you decide that it shouldn't really bother you.

In retrospect, nothing that happens now can hurt you as much as the things you've experienced in the past.

You can only go forward from here.


	42. Guard Dog

** Be Aradia.**

Today the dog intercepted the cat on her way to sink her filthy, ragged claws into her unexpecting prey, and whisked him away, away from harm.

The look on Vriska's face was priceless when she realized what was happening.

Stunned, confused, hurt, and full of rage all at once and the way she balled her fists made a spark of pride shoot through your chest.

You know this will be nothing but trouble for you in the future, but you are simply doing what your instincts have told you to do.

And that is to protect Tavros.

When you see how genuinely kind hearted and timid he is when you speak with him, you feel even more sure about what you are doing.

He is not deserving of the kind of pain Vriska will surely give him.

You will not allow her to do to him what she did to you.

You will not allow it.

You are done sitting back and letting it happen, watching her ruin people's lives.

You have never been the fighting type but for this, you will try to be.

You are prepared to fight back with everything you have to show her that what she is doing is wrong.

And if it comes to physical force, so be it.

* * *

><p><em>Author's note: Imagine Aradia as Spike and Vriska as Tom from Tom and Jerry. That's what's about to go down.<em>


	43. One More Iron

_Author's note: Shoosh babies, Karkat's next. ;3_

* * *

><p><strong>Be Vriska.<strong>

Aradia's sticking her nose in places it doesn't belong.

Bitch has no idea what she's getting herself into.

She has no idea how many irons you have in the fire.

She better step down before she gets hurt.

On second thought…

No, no she shouldn't.

This could be fun.


	44. Accidents

**Be Karkat.**

You're standing in an abandoned alley with Gamzee close by your side and you have no idea why.

It smells like garbage and piss and there's a box in the corner that likely is someone's home.

You've been standing here for what you can guess is around 20 minutes and Gamzee has done nothing but stand there, staring at the brick wall across from you like he's possessed and this is a shitty horror flick.

He's shirtless despite the chill in the air, but you resist the urge to make him wear your hoodie because one: he's unresponsive, and two: you're fucking cold.

His jeans hang low on his hips, fingerless black gloves covering his hands, fresh bandages wrapped around the cause of your sudden heroic reformation (if you're going to be a softie, you're at least going to give it a grand title) and you can't tell if he's high or not.

His eyes are vacant and glassy but the few times he's spoken his voice has been much more comprehensible than usual.

You'll assume he's just buzzed, enough to be aware while still coping with whatever is plaguing his brain.

This time around you don't mind.

But you'll admit, it's kinda really fucking weird.

Just standing here, waiting for him to say something, waiting for him to do something instead of just…

Stand there.

You don't complain though, and you don't leave, because you know he asked you to come here for a reason, even if it isn't immediately apparent to you.

Nothing's ever immediately apparent to you of course, because you're Karkat Vantas and you have to sift through bullshit in order to get any straight answers.

Though, awkward as it may be, you're sticking to your god damn promises for once in your lousy, worthless life because you owe it to him.

So you sit down against the wall and still he doesn't look anywhere but straight ahead, transfixed on something that you can't see.

You close your eyes, lean your head back, and sigh.

And you scream.

Like a little girl.

Who's just peed her little girl panties.

There's a loud impact against the brick next to your ear and you topple over sideways with shock and when you open your eyes Gamzee is gone.

Just fucking gone.

"W-what the fuck? Gamzee! Gamzee, where the- Oh god no- Wh-"

Wh-

What?

How in the hell.

Did Gamzee.

Get on the roof.

Of that fucking building.

One second he was right there, right in front of you where he had been since you fucking got here and the next…

…Up there?

"Hey, how the _fuck_ did you GAMZEE WAIT GAMZEE NO FUCK DON'T WAI-"

He's right on the edge of the roof, only supported by the balls of his feet, arms extended outwards, and he's slipping.

He's slipping fast.

Oh god no.

He didn't bring you here to…

He isn't…

He's falling.

You can feel your heart in places you shouldn't.

You bite your tongue so hard that the taste of blood floods your mouth and you don't care.

You start screaming, yelling, crying and you don't care.

Oh god he's falling oh god no this can't be happening Gamzee is going to kill himself he's…

Grabbed onto the windowsill of the window below him and then he's jumping back down to where you are, feet hitting the ground with a thud that vibrates through the soles of your shoes.

You hit him.

Instinctively, you just fucking pull back and punch him.

Hard.

Right in the middle of the chest and you can hear the wind being knocked out of him and you scream so loud your voice cracks and you hit him again on the shoulder for good measure because god damn it you were absolutely terrified.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING SCARE ME LIKE THAT YOU GOD DAMN… WHAT. THE. FU-"

"That's how it happened."

"What?"

His voice is so low and strained you hardly heard him but you stop yelling instantly because he's grabbed your wrist and he's looking you dead in the eyes with such intensity that it completely throws you off your game.

He's not rough about it, the opposite really.

Apprehensive.

Questioning.

He looks like he's searching for something in your facial expression but finds nothing.

"That's how it happened," he repeats.

"How what happened?" You ask gently, pulling your wrist from his grasp and instead lightly placing your own hand on his bare bicep.

His lower lip trembles when he speaks.

"The accident."

"The accident…?"

"Tav's accident."

Oh.

_Oh._

"He… he tried to jump from there-" He points to the building across from the one he just climbed and to where he stood with his arm extended moments ago. "- to there and he didn't stick the landing and he slipped off and god, he didn't land good, Karbro, he didn't land good at fucking all."

His breath hitches and you're going to give him a second to calm down but he continues.

"I told him he could do it. I said he could and he believed me and it fucked him up so bad and he was screaming and crying and bleeding and his leg bone was sticking out of somewhere it shouldn't have been and oh _god_."

He clutches at your hoodie and buries his head in between your shoulder and neck and you don't even feel uncomfortable about it you just let him shake and dry sob onto you.

This is what's been bothering him?

What's driven him into such a deep depression that he's had to…

You don't think you've ever felt so horrible about something in your whole life.

You had had no idea they had even done this kind of stuff together.

You knew they had been good friends there for a while but…

Parkour?

Tavros?

You guess maybe it would explain Gamzee's affiliation with climbing trees.

And you guess it does make sense that Gamzee has been so messed up over this, seeing something like that happen to a such a close friend of yours would be…

You don't even know how to begin to describe what that would feel like.

"Gamzee," You start, but you have no idea how to even start with this.

You'll try.

"Hey, come on, there's no way you can blame yourself for something like this, okay? It wasn't your fault."

He pulls away from you, eyes red, and tries to protest but you put a hand over his mouth and frown.

"You called it "his accident," and that's exactly what it was, alright? An accident. Accidents don't have a single person responsible for them, that's kind of the definition of an accident. You had no idea that something like that could have happened."

"_He_ blames me," He chokes and you awkwardly rub his arm in attempt to placate him.

"I don't think that's true. And if he does, he has no right to. He was the one who tried to make a jump he couldn't handle. It was his own fault. But that doesn't even matter Gamzee, none of it does."

You've been avoiding direct eye contact this whole time, but you lock eyes with him now to stress how serious you are.

This _is_ how you comfort someone, right?

How the fuck does Kanaya do this shit?

You can only imagine how fucking hard it is to calm you down.

"It doesn't matter because that's in the past now. What happened happened and there's nothing we can do about it but move on. So what if Tavros isn't talking to you, that's his loss."

Gamzee tries to interject again but you clamp your hand harder over his mouth and he gives in.

"I sound like a character from one of John's shitty movies, fuck. Okay, okay look... I'm here okay? You don't have Tavros anymore, but you have me now, and I'm, _fuck_, I'm willing to help you even if I'm not good at it and-"

"You are good at it," comes the muffled response from between your fingers.

You move your hand away and he repeats,

"You are good at helping, dude. You've...you've helped a lot. I don't feel so motherfuckin' bad."

You…

Just look at him.

And the corners of his lips twitch weakly and he looks like that god damned kitten walking through that god damned minefield that you swore you weren't fretting over, not one bit.

It turns out you really were fretting over him this whole fucking time, if that hadn't been obvious.

And it looks like he made it across okay.

And now he's asking for forgiveness in the form of watery kitten eyes and the nonverbal plead for a belly rub.

You guess you'll let it slide.

This time.

You pull your hoodie off and shove it towards his chest and he takes it and you walk off towards the sidewalk nonchalantly because you aren't going to let him see the state of your tear ducts, no way.

"Put that on, you big idiot. We're going to Ihop."


	45. Guardian Angel

** Be Gamzee.**

Never in your life have you felt more grateful for another person sitting across from you as you shovel pancakes and eggs and bacon into your mouth like you've never eaten before.

They don't taste bland like everything has since the accident, they don't leave your mouth feeling chalky.

You can taste.

You can see.

You can breathe.

You can feel.

You can feel something that isn't guilt and self-loathing for the first time in years.

You feel wonderful.

You feel…relief.

The soft fabric of the inside of Karkat's hoodie against your skin.

It smells like him.

You feel the stickiness of the syrup running down your wrist, probably soaking into the bandages wrapped around it.

You feel Karkat's eyes on you, ever present, watching you like a hawk and with a weird expression on his face that you can't quite figure out.

His pancakes sit untouched.

You look up at him and smile and a bit of egg falls out of your mouth.

He snorts.

And takes a sip of his water, looking away from you nonchalantly like he hasn't been staring at you since he sat down.

You don't mind the staring.

It makes you feel looked after.

Cared for.

Like he's your guardian angel or something.

Yeah.

That's exactly what he is.

Karkat is your guardian angel.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.


	46. Fuck Up City

** Be Karkat.**

When it comes down to it, you guess this weird new relationship you have with Gamzee isn't so bad.

He's high maintenance, sure, but…

The look in his eyes makes it worth it.

The life in his smile and the way he's enjoying himself, stuffing his face like a child, makes it worth it.

You've done something good, you think.

You, Karkat Vantas, King of Ass Sitting and Pointless Sniveling, have done something that actually amounts to something.

You're a fucking hero, except you're totally not, not at all.

You've got a way to go before you reach hero status of course.

But maybe in Gamzee's eyes you are one.

A hero.

Oh man.

Kanaya is going to hear all about that.

Hell fucking yes you're going to brag about this to her until her ear falls off and probably burst into flames or something equally dramatic.

She told you to befriend Gamzee, to give him a chance, and what did you do?

You fucking _saved_ him.

You just wish that you could shake these god damn thoughts from your head.

Karkat Vantas may have done something good _once_, but you have a long fucking track record of fucking things up and there's pretty much no way that that isn't what this train is heading for.

Sad, sorry Fuck Up City with it's looming towers of gloom and it's deep valleys of doom.

You guess you might as well bask in the glory of success while you still can, and brace for impact.

This going to be one hell of a train wreck.


	47. Discomfort

** Be Sollux.**

You aren't sure how you found yourself in this position.


	48. Now What

** Be Eridan.**

Wow, this is real fuckin' awkward.


	49. Caretaker

** Be Karkat.**

It's been a week since the incident in the alley.

Good news.

The train hasn't wrecked yet.

Things are looking up, you think; as much as they can, anyways.

Gamzee's drugs disappeared 3 days ago.

You didn't even say anything about them to him.

One day, the bong was there, the next, it wasn't.

He seems to be doing okay.

The cuts are healing, his demeanor remains chipper and relaxed, but every so often you see him sneak a panicked glance to the corner where it used to sit.

You don't know what he did with the thing, whether he hid it, threw it away, smashed it, whatever.

All that matters is he is making a conscious effort to deal with his problems and to get better.

Something you yourself should have been doing all along, instead of rolling around in your self-pity and crying all over yourself like a god damn baby.

You guess you and Gamzee were alike in that way.

_Were_.

The only difference is he's gotten better and you haven't.

He's been going on a lot of walks lately.

By himself.

At first you were nervous about letting him go alone, you didn't know if he was in a fit mental state to be out and about.

You've offered to go with him many times (almost _insisting_ at one point,) but he always denies you.

So you give in.

You instead make sure that he has his cell phone on him incase he needs to call you, like a worried mother, and send him on his way.

He always makes it back okay, somber but intact.

You don't know what happened to make you do such a 180 (okay, yes you do,) from self-loathing asshole to overly protective worrisome asshole, but Kanaya was damn impressed when you called her.

You could tell she was trying to mask it with false cheeriness, but you knew that she really didn't know what to think of the news.

That you are helping someone along the way she has been helping you for so long.

You think you heard her get choked up but she blamed it on a cold she was apparently catching.

Yeah, right.

She's not the only one doing psychological analysis anymore!

There's a new doctor in town.

An unlicensed, unpracticed doctor, but a doctor all the same.

You've been talking to Gamzee a lot more too.

Actually sitting down and talking with him, something you've never done before and never thought you ever would.

You talk mostly about yourself.

You don't want him to have to talk about any more of his problems until he's ready.

So you tell him about yours instead.

It's a win/win situation really.

You tell him about how living with Sollux was, how he treated you (how you treated each other, really,) how your friendship was ripped to pieces, how he kicked you out, and he listens.

You tell him about your history with Terezi and how much of a punch to the heart seeing her was, and about the dinner you shared with she and Dave the night before you found him in the middle of his floor, and he listens.

You tell him how you regret ever ignoring him, underestimating him, taking advantage of him, or making fun of him, and he listens.

And smiles.

And pats you on the back.

And you smile too.

For the first time in years, you don't feel very upset.

You don't feel very angry.

You feel…

Almost at ease.

Relaxed?

Something about having someone listen to you, and _really_ listen to you, pacifies you.

It makes you feel…

Wanted.

Appreciated.

Loved.

Like you have the potential to make a real, true friend.

No.

Gamzee is your friend.

He's your friend and you admit it, you'll finally admit it.

You care about him.

You want the best for him.

You want him to be happy.

And he cares about you too.

And there's no better feeling in the world than knowing that.


	50. Note From The Author

_Author's note: Hey guys! No new chapter I'm sorry, it's been like a month since I've updated (exactly a month, actually. Oops. Didn't plan that.) _

_The thing is guys, I have no inspiration left for this story. For now, at least. It's just lost it's appeal, I just can't bring myself to finish it._

_I _will_ finish it at some point, you don't have to worry about that. I will finish it. But I don't know when. That's up in the air._

_I've just felt the need to broaden my horizons a little bit and write other things. Other new things._

_I'm starting a new story, a highschool AU (which are probably numerous on this site, but to be honest, I haven't read practically any fanfiction on this site, so I don't know what's been done and what hasn't. Is it hypocritical for a fanfiction writer to not read fanfiction? Probably.) Hopefully, it will turn out different from most highschool AUs. I'm going to try my hardest to steer this new one more clear of the whole romance route and focus more on friendships and social interactions, BUT the endgame pairing of this new story will be Sollux/Karkat. I know there are some of you out there who really like SolKat, and sadly this story does not focus on that pairing, so it's your lucky day._

_And yeah! So, taking a break from this story, and moving onto a new one for a while, but this one will be completed at a later date. Just keeping you guys updated because I know a lot of you don't follow my tumblr (which, if you're interested, is nanchoparty(.)tumblr(.)com)_

_I love you all~! 3 Sorry about this, but it's just what I need to do._


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